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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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Chap. Copyright No.. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, 



Folly's Bells 



FOLLY'S BELLS 



A German Legend 



By Anne Gardner Hale 

Illustrations by Lillian Hale 



^ _^ 


• 


.itisffis^i 



The Peter Paul Book Company 
Buffalo, New York 

MDCCCXCVII 



TWO COPIES RECEIVED 




"pS 3 S"! r 



Copyright, 1897 

by 

Anne Gardner Hale 



Printed and bound by The 
Peter Paul Book Company, 
in BuEfalo, New York. 



TO 
THE MEMORY OF 

WHO, MAKING THE ANGELS' SONG THE MUSIC OF THEIR LIVES, 

SET FORTH, BY BOTH PRECEPT AND EXAMPLE, 

THE WISDOM, THE BEAUTY, AND 

THE BLESSEDNESS 

OF KINDNESS, BENEVOLENCE, AND SELF-SACRIFICE IN 

ATTRACTIVE CONTRAST TO THE FOLLY AND 

THE DANGER OF COVETOUSNESS 

AND SELF-SEEKING, 

THIS LITTLE BOOK IS REVERENTLY 

AND AFFECTIONATELY 

DEDICATED 



Illustrations 



*' Impatient children open wide the door," . 

Facing title-page ^ 

" A gray-haired man, who leant upon an oaken 

staff," page ii ^ 

" Her trembling hand she hastily withdrew," page jj . 

"And when the gale was spent, the sea at 

peace," page ^g ^ 



\/^£ ivho mid the CJiristinas cJieer 

Fain zvould linger long 
Joyous minstrelsy to hear^ 
Careless jest and song, 

Marvel not, if, folloivs mirth — 
From its radiance zvronght — 

Down the doleful slopes of earth, 
Shadozvy afterthought. 

Heartsonie, zvholesome, else, zvere not 

Merry Christmas zvays. 
And the lesson soon forgot 

Of these happy days. 



Prelude 



High o'er the city's din, 
The old church bell, by touch impetuous rung, 
Threw on the frosty air a vigorous peal, 
Which at much hazard set the ancient tower. 
That throbbed and swayed all tremulous from its force, 
While to the ear expectant came its tones 
Sweetest of sounds upon this hallowed eve. 
Within the sacred walls, the living green 
Of pungent pine and faithful hemlock lent 
Symbolic teaching to the chanting choir. 
Where all the lights ablaze more joyous made 
The blessed service for this festal hour. 
Without, the evening star beamed softly forth. 
As might of old the star o'er Bethlehem's plains; 
Through conquered clouds the full moon cast her rays 
Of tenderest glory on the snow-capped roofs. 
And silvered all the dingy courts and streets. 
There, hurrying to and fro, went busy throngs 
Intent on Christmas traffic or its mirth 



2 Prelude 

(Gift-laden most, yet giftless want passed too), 
Jostling each other in good-natured strife 
For precedence of place or time, with glee 
Of gladsome smiles and quiet glance that told, 
More plainly far than words, of joy serene. 

Just on the edge of trade — scarce counted in — 
A modest mansion stood. Along its front 
The snow untrodden and unsullied lay. 
Among the crowd, a pale boy, poorly clad, 
Espied the snow and ran with eager speed 
To reach the entrance, natural shyness gone. 
The parlor windows are alight, yet not 
For this he comes, nor for the Christmas tree 
(So dear to childhood's heart) revealed therein, 
Sparkling with tapers and its tinseled gauds 
And gifts of gorgeous hues. He heeds them not, 
Nor yet the graceful figures, young and fair. 
Swaying and bending gaily in the dance 
To music's witching spell. No — not to these 
Gives even a glance; and one, observant, calls 
From upraised sash to know his quest, his want. 

" Work, work," he utters piteously. " The snow 



Prelude 3 

To clear from doorstep and from court. Work — work ! 
My mother, sister May, and I, no food 
For two long days have tasted, and to earn 
Money to buy us bread I'll do my best." 

Impatient children open wide the door 
And draw reluctantly the boy within ; 
All proud and eager to display and share 
With him the toys and lavish dainties spread 
To make the festival. 

" No, no ! " he cries; 
With spurning hands and tearful eyes returns 
The pretty baubles, and the sweetmeats too. 
'' I want not these. Our precious baby May 
Moans in her hungry sleep, and mother weeps 
That she for lack of bread must die. Bread — bread ! 
If but a crust, I'll take it gratefully, — 
Yet not as gift. I can work, and I will, 
To pay for all we want." 

Straightway assured 
Of this, industriously he plies his task, 
And soon with smiling face the needed food 



4 Prelude 

Takes home ; while mimic Santa Claus, 
With jingling bells and thud of hoof-beats heard 
Around the house, comes in and spreads his pack, 
Dealing to all assembled for the feast, 
In sweet remembrance of the Gift divine 
Sent down from heaven on this auspicious eve, 
Affection's gifts of whatsoever most 
Appropriate are or ardently desired. 

To one amid that company he gives 
A slender book, wherein is written small, 
In the quaint style of ancient days, 
A wondrous legend still believed for truth. 
She pores the pages with a greedy eye. 
And in her memory lingers long the tale. 
Whose import deep at length she clearly grasps. 
And yearning then to lend its teachings high 
To souls congenial, with more ample lines. 
In words familiar and of modern guise, 
Here upon these fair leaves 'tis spread to view. 



Folly's Bells 



Folly's Bells 



I 

When the calm waters of the Zuyder Zee 
Ebb slowly out to meet the sleeping sea, — 

What time, o'erwearied, fierce Euroclydon, 
In the far caverns of the icy north, 

Dreaming of contests won. 
Forgets his goings forth, — 
The home-bound sailor's gleeful shout is stilled. 
His heart with horror chilled ; 
For there, beneath the waves serene, 
Smit with a ghastly splendor through the green. 
He sees a city dead — the towers and domes 
Of ancient Stavoren, once happy homes, — 
A wan eidolon now, the refluent sea 

In these brief moments of complacent mien 
From its long dole of darkness setting free — 

Like as from dungeon a dethroned queen. 

7 



Folly' s Bells 
II 

O Stavoren ! fair Stavoren ! 
Erst among noblest of the marts of trade ; 
By wealth and pomp so graced ! 
How humbled ! how abased ! 
And to this doom betrayed 
By a weak Friesian dame, 
Who, blindly arrogant, 
Mocked at all pain and want, 
Perversely reckless of the sin and shame. 
If but her vanity 
Might hold supremacy. 
And to her sumptuous courts came embassies, 

A giddy, thriftless throng, 
Sent from all realms, with fulsome flatteries 

Joining her dowried minstrels in their song, 
Crying in blatant tones that her alone 
Empress of splendor all the world should own. 
Thus sped long, prosperous years. 
Fearless of adverse skies. 
With sunny brow, and eyes 
As yet undimmed by tears. 



Folly' s Bells 9 

From her fine windows far and wide looked she — 
That haughty dame Richberta — many a day 

Watching with pride the white sails, fleet and free, 
Fluttering outward from Stavoren bay, 

Or the home-coming keel, with treasures vast 

Deep-laden, dip lowly the bending mast. 



Ill 

Ships the staunchest were hers to run 

Swift as a shuttle to and fro 
Every kingdom under the sun — 

Weaving a web of friendship so. 

And of the bounty that blesses earth — 
Wealth of the seas or worth of the land, 

Or whatsoever therein had birth. 
Readily bringing at her command ; 

While timber and granite from Noroway, 
And iron and copper from Russian mines, 

Higher and broader day by day 

Builded her towers or lengthened her lines. 



lo Folly' s Bells 

Then cedar and cinnabar, silver and gold, 
Velvet and satin and finest wool. 

In plinth and pillar, and fold on fold, 
Yielded their beauty to her control. 

And hosts of ministrants — deftest — best — 
Wrought with a tireless brain and hand, 

Or waited, obsequient, every guest. 

And spread her praises throughout the land. 



IV 

With all this pomp elate. 

The porter at Richberta's palace gate 
Welcomed one merry Christmas morn 

A gray-haired man, who leant 

Upon an oaken staff. Wrinkled and bent 

Was he, — o'erburdened with the many cares 

Which he had gathered unawares 

From the sad hearts to want and sorrow born. 
That, out of poverty and pain forlorn. 
Had dropped full heavily 
Into the bundle of his patient life 




">niii^ 






Folly's Bells 13 

Woes which eye cannot see 
Nor will the ear attend amid the strife 
When selfish aims and avarice compete 
Where wealth and grandeur have their lofty seat. 



V 



Lackeys and menials base cast many a stare, 
And mutter many a sneer 
Upon the gray-haired pilgrim drawing near, 
Whose calm, clear eyes of eager scrutiny 
Pierce through and through 
All things within his view, 
Behold the glitter and the specious glare 
Of all this lavish splendor silently ; 

Beauty and grace of varied forms and hues 
Nor dazzle nor confuse 
His earnest gaze. With footsteps firm he treads 
Where'er the outer court its show dispreads. 

VI 

The inner court — the gorgeous banquet-hall ! 
Here the slant sunbeams fall 



14 Folly' s Bells 

O'er crowded buffet and on loaded board. 
All costly wines are poured, 
And luscious viands in profuse display — 
Meats, fruits, and comfits — make a grand array 
In golden vessels radiant as the morn 

That breaks o'er summer seas in majesty. 
Beakers and goblets that rich gems adorn, 

Salvers and chargers crusted preciously 
With opulence of jewels; patterned rare — 
Moorish, or arabesque, — all quaintly fair. 
Challenge attention — claim, as homage due. 
Warm admiration — and receive it, too, 
Save from that pilgrim gray. 
Who searches o'er and o'er the vast display. 
And with a saddened visage turns away. 



VII 

High on her dais, in regal state, 
Lady Richberta surveys the scene ; 

Fawning courtiers may kneel and wait 
While she studies the old man's mien. 



Folly's Bells 15 

Soon, at her mandate, a trumpet brays ; 

He heeds the signal, he stands at her feet, 
And shimmer of satin and diamonds' blaze 

The tattered serofe of his mantle meet. 



He bows on his staff, but he bends not knee. 
Though he notes the ire in her scintillant eyes, 

And, as Bragi might answer fierce Ate, 
To her anxious questioning thus replies : 

"Most gracious lady, having heard the fame 
Of your great wealth and loveliness, I came. 
Leaving the old Hercynian woods, whose shade 
Shelters my hut of clay. 
And my pale brothers, in their poverty. 

Far, far behind. 
I crossed. the foaming sea, 
Of every mortal evil unafraid. 
If, ha]3ly, I might find 
Amid your grand array 
The one best thing all-wise, all-potent Heaven 
To this bright world hath given. 



1 6 Folly's Bells 

''Vain is my quest. 
Amid your glittering stores I find it not, 

O lady proud and gay ! 
Your mirthful life is but a wretched lot ; 
With that unblest, 
Empty as dross is all this proud array ; 
Your wealth, a dewdrop in the summer's sun; 
Your claim to highest splendor, falsely w^on." 



VIII 

At these plain words 
Baffled ambition and chagrin intense 
Their balefires mounted on Richberta's cheek. 

Thrice she essayed to speak, 
But, held in leash by passion's furious power, 
Her tongue and lips refuse 
Their wonted office. Yet her virulence 
Of gesture swift imbues 
Her minions with her ire. Their black brows lower, 
And, drawing ready swords. 



Folly s Bells 17 

With angry menacing of fearful fate 
They speed the old man to the city's gate. 

Then through the scurrile crowd 
Of pampered flatterers feasting at her board 

Uprose the wassail loud ; 
Full freely flowed the mead, red wine was poured ; 
And ribaldry 
In song and glee 
Started strange echoes 'neath the tapestries; 

Smote the still evening air, whose tranquil wings, 
As of a grieved spirit's murmurings. 
Filled all the starry spaces with its sighs. 



IX 



Ere the next noon, through every house and hut 
The rumor passed that Heinric Schley versen, 
The boldest admiral of all her fleet, 
Obedient to the mandate first promulged 
At dawn by Korthar, privy counselor 
And trusted friend of Lady Richberta, 
Had summoned all his mariners in haste, 



1 8 Folly's Bells 

And quay and dock swarmed with a motley crowd 
That bustled to and fro in eager zeal. 

Where the great ships lay idly moored arose 
The quick, sharp strokes of hurrying artisans, 
The heavy thud of sledge and adze, the clank 
Of chains, the creak of windlass, and the twang 
Of loosened cordage, with the rustling, shrill 
And sibilant, of unbrailed canvas. Thus 
Through labor's mighty diapason rang 
The grandest anthem earth can raise to heaven. 

Hard hands of toil, bronzed brows, and sinewy 
arms. 
Yours was the grandeur, yours the nobleness, 
That had Atlantean splendor gladly brought 
Misguided Richberta, were that her wish! 



X 



Heinric Schleyversen stroked his yellow beard, 
And, with the air of one who holds secure 
A weighty secret, trod with conscious power 
His vessel's deck and gave in bugle tones 



Folly's Bells 19 

His orders right and left, till all the fleet, 
Made stanch and burnished as for festival. 
Passed down the bay one quiet, starry eve 
When tides propitious bore them safely forth 
And gracious breezes filled the swelling sails. 

Lady Richberta, in her queenliest robes. 
Surrounded by her maids, looked from her tower. 
Cresset and torch alight their fullest beams 
Flinging athwart the jewels in her hair, 
Most beauteous beacon of the night she stood. 
Which the departing fleet beheld in awe, 
Chivalric likening, with irreverent breath. 
To some pure saint with heavenly nimbus crowned. 

Thus watched she there till every snowy sail 
Dipped low beneath the far horizon's rim, 
Her lords in waiting wondering at her stay. 
Yet none durst break the silence of the hour 
Nor ask the purport of the whispered words 
That stirred her pallid lips as she at length, 
All tremulous, came down the marble stairs 
And hastened on to reach the banquet hall. 



20 Folly' s Bells 

XI 

Then, with a frenzy wild, she loudly called 

Her minstrel band. 

And gave a stern command — 
In accents that appalled 

By their sepulchral sound 

The sycophants around — 
That mirth and merriment should speed apace 

The slowly passing hours, 

And with a ghastly face 
And air distraught evoked the highest powers 

Of dulcimer and flute, — 
That might allay the tumult in her soul, 

Her saddest fears confute. 
Her dark forebodings banish or control. 

XII 

So passed the feverish days — 

Her greed, insatiate. 
Seeking many, many ways 

To draw within the palace gate 



Folly's Bells 21 

All novelties and wonders yet ungained, 
If, peradventure, thus might be obtained 

The one best thing 

That should true splendor bring. 
For this with wasting envy now she pined, — 
The hoary pilgrim's words still fresh in mind. 
Yet fruitless all her care, and all the skill 
By which her servitors would fain fulfill 
Her wildest scheme. 

Months flee — yet all in vain 
Is effort and appeal to gain 
The treasure craved so long. 
And even its search seems but a senseless dream 
To those who stroll her glittering corridors. 
With vaunting voice count her increasing stores. 
And lead the dance and troll the fulsome song. 

XIII 

The years move slowly on. In discontent, 
Yet haunted by the hope of gaining soon 
That one best thing. 



2 2 Folly's Bells 

Lady Richberta keeps, with strictest care, 

Whene'er the new moon from her silver shell 

Showers softest radiance over Flevum's tide, 

A vigil, vowed in secret that fair night 

When Heinric Schleyversen sailed down the bay ; 

Vigil of penance and petition wild, 

That this her heart's desire may be obtained. 

Through seven long years — oh! weary, waitinj 
years ! 
No answer had she to her earnest prayers: 
Yet through those years she failed not in her vow. 
But climbed religiously the long, steep stairs 
Within the watchtower to its highest floor, 
Just as each new moon flung a parting ray 
Along the river's breast, and Hesperus 
With radiant fingers locked the gates of day; 
And till the hour of midnight, on her knees. 
Her straining eyes sought painfully the bay, 
Yearning for signs of the returning fleet. 
Then, until dawn, in sleepless agony. 
Perversely blind to other needs, her soul. 
With tearful voice, in prayer importunate 



Folly's Bells 23 

Besieged Heaven's courts for that most precious boon, 

The one best thing, 
To crown the cup, which, for her craving thirst 
Of power and splendor, most egregiously. 
Had base ambition, with consummate art. 
Filled to the jeweled brim. 

Thus, thus she watched. 
And prayed, and wept, with superstitious zeal 
For the completion of her selfish will. 
Nor heeded how, outside her palace-walls. 
Famine, disease, and death held carnival. 



XIV 

The wintry blast swept wildly o'er the dunes; 
The swiftly changing sands held dangers dire, 
So in the fishers' huts the fare was scant. 
And strong men, struck with fear, hung up their nets 
And laid aside the spear. The housewives sat 
No longer in the sun, pillow on knee ; 
Bobbins and bones and flaxen thread, which erst 
Their busy fingers wove to flowery film. 



24 Folly' s Bells 

In shining tangles tasseled the damp walls, 
Where seldom smoke or flickering flame arose, 
Or savory odors of the steaming food ; 
While little children, crying in the night, 
Hungry and freezing, sobbed their young lives out. 

Ah, me ! the darkness of those dismal days ! — 
The cruel want, the anguish of despair 
Through pain and pinching cold and death ; — far 

worse 
Death's pitiless neglect, Avhen death had been 
A blessed boon to young and old alike! 
And yet, Richberta, all her halls ablaze 
With light and warmth, the crimson and the gold 
Superbly sumptuous, as in overflush 
Most prodigal of life and all life's needs. 
Shimmering and throbbing, in a beauty wild 
With an excessive pleasance, counted hers 
A hard and bitter lot, demeaned herself 
Most shrewishly and sharp, an iron hand 
Clinched firmly o'er her treasures, while her maids 
And all her ministers besought in vain 
Some slight compassion for the starving poor. 



Folly s Bells 25 

XV 

Winter at last is ended. 

God be praised for the spring ! 
Still is the furious tempest ; 

Doubt and despair take wing. 
Tenderly lingers the sunshine 

Where the shadows have lain ; 
Hope with her smile illumines 

The labors of life again. 

Out on the sparkling billows 

The fisherman toils all day, 
Homeward at eve returning 

To wife and children gay. 
Cold and pain forgotten, 

Though meager and mean their store, 
Thankfulness sweetens all things ; 

Plenty is theirs once more. 

Yet to the springtime greetings 

Lady Richberta replies 
With a gloomy, querulous accent, 

And frowns at the brightening skies. 



26 Folly's Bells 

She is tiring of her vigils, 

And the fair young moon of March 
She sees, in the gathering twilight, 

Lighting the stairway arch. 

'' Of what avail ? " she crieth. 

Yet dares not break her vow. 
Slowly ascends the turret, 

And on her knees bends low; 
And watch and prayer and penance 

Are offered listlessly; 
When, lo! the boon is granted — 

Whitens the purple sea ! 

XVI 

Sunrise shines on the full sails, gleaming 
White as the wings of an angel band; 

Wondering whether awake or dreaming, 
Lady Richberta waves her hand. 

All its banners the whole fleet, proudly. 
Swift as a lightning's flash, fling wide ; 

Trumpet and drum to her signal loudly 
Answer across the swelling tide. 



Folly' s Bells 27 

Slowly (how slow to her who waits them !) 
The heavily laden ships draw near. 

Is it some evil that thus belates them ? 
Pales Richberta in mortal fear. 

Scarcely the gunwale clears the water; 

Grass grows green on the quarter-deck. 
What is this priceless gift they have brought her, 

Holding such mighty force in check? 

Who is the old, old man so warily 
Scanning the tide as the ships sail in? 

Brave young Heinric Schleyversen ! Verily, 
Perilous voyaging this has been ! 

XVII 

His tall form bowed. 

His visage deeply lined 
With many furrows prematurely ploughed. 
His yellow beard and hair 
Bleached to' a snowy whiteness, standing there 

At his proud vessel's prow, the light west wind 



28 Folly s Bells 

Tossing his loose locks, as the helmsman steers 
Safely to port amid the welcoming cheers 
Of humble fisher-folk, whom early day 
Calls to the seines that hold their finny prey. 
'Tis he — bold Heinric of the eagle eye! 
And seeming patriarch of a hundred years. 

XVIII 

To pale Richberta's cheek a blush goes leaping — 
A blush of shame, for conscience is but sleeping — 
So changed is he. 
Her vain decree 
Had not so written in its bond this waste 
Of manhood's prime. 
Life's glory so defaced — 
Degraded — set at nought — 
Appears as her own crime 
In this brief moment. Ah ! did she but know — 

Could she, so blind, but see 
Now is her trial hour ! Or weal or woe 

Hangs on the issue of this passing thought, 
To her and thousands more the destiny. 



Folly's Bells 29 

XIX 

Scarce had the chapel bells for matins rung 
Ere the bold voyagers, every ship in dock, 
And all sails furled, were eager to unlade 
And to deliver up their precious freight. 
Impatiently they wait the admiral's word. 

A- chosen few at length with him set forth, 
Stepping in rhythmic cadence to the notes 
Of drum and bugle, resonant and shrill. 
With radiant banners waving in the breeze. 
Along the busiest streets of Stavoren, 
A train of idlers gathering as they go. 
While all the bells peal loudly far and near 
In joyous greeting of the wealth they bring. 

They reach the entrance of the palace courts 
Just as the seneschal at noon's high hour 
Flings wide the gates, proclaims in haughty tones 
That Lady Richberta awaiteth them 
In the grand audience hall. 

A host of wide-eyed courtiers stand aloof 
As in they pass where a magnificence 
Of gold and purple, in gay garniture 



30 Folly' s Bells 

And garb, hold for a moment's space their gaze — 
Those shabby, seaworn men — such contrast sharp 
It lends to them and to the gift they bear. 

XX 

Transcendent loveliness was in the smile 
That wreathed Richberta's lips as they advanced. 
And through her counselor, Korthar the wise, 
She gave them gladsome greeting and loud thanks 
For that they had fulfilled her high behest 
So faithfully, so well — the while she eyed 
Most curiously the clumsy load, that, now. 
Each man, obedient to the leader's glance, 
Laid at the lady's feet. 

Thereat he knelt — 
Brave Heinric — humbly knelt, and kissed the hem 
Of her resplendent robe. Then, standing, told 
In low and modest tones the fearful tale 
Of their long voyaging. 

She heard him not 
Save with the outward ear ; her mind intent 
Upon the treasures lying there and yet 



Folly's Bells 31 

Concealed from view within their rusty sacks, 

No eye, no thought has she, for him who speaks 

Of icy rigors in the northern seas. 

Of blasting noontide heat 'neath tropic suns. 

Hunger and pain oft seated at the helm, 

While fierce monsoons and pitiless hurricanes 

Drave the whole fleet on treacherous rocks, or shoals, 

And threatened to engulf in watery graves; 

Or base marauders, and vile, savage men, 

Devoid of mercy, strove e'en unto death 

To wrest the secret of their great emprise; 

And how, undaunted still, they kept their way 

Those many years. Yet all a bootless quest. 

Until they reached, one quiet autumn day 

The long, low beach of a great inland sea, 

Whose tranquil tide drew all the ships along, 

Like a young brood of swans, far up among 

The reeds that fringed with green the little bays. 

Which, denting all the coast, a harbor gave 

To ships and shallops sent from every clime 

That precious thing to gain — the world's best gift — 

Abundantly vouchsafed that happy land. 



32 Folly' s Bells 

XXI 

At those last words he fixed his steadfast gaze 
Full on Richberta's wandering eyes, then paused ; 
Thus drew her thoughts to him as he resumed : 

''x\ beauteous land, indeed. 
Most puissant mistress — beautiful 
And grand with all that nature yields ! 
In quiet pastures herds unnumbered feed; 
The hills are white with flocks of softest wool; 

And, in the harvest fields. 
Young men and maidens, ruddy as the morn. 
Singing for glee, bind up the ripened corn. 



"I heard no murmuring of the poor man there 

Of needs left unsupplied, 
And no complaining in the busy street 
Of harsh control ; but, far and wide. 
The peasantry, a hardy, happy race. 
Of i)lainest food had plenty and to spare; 

And, blithe and sweet. 
Peace and contentment shone on every face. 



Folly s Bells 33 

''Of flashing gems and gold and velvet stuff, 
None did I see. Mine eyes of those enough, 
In all the lands where I had plied my quest, 
Had seen and known ; 
And only now, alone, 
Sought out of all earth's products one — the best; 
That which of peace and comfort holds the key; 

Of which whoso deals largess keepeth sway 
Of all rebellious hearts, and setteth free 

The abject from their fears ; and day by day. 
Dispensing widest trust and love and joy, 
Brings for the soul its most approved employ. 

"And so, my liege, I bring 
From that delightsome land, 
As to me seemed best, 
Of its abundance. To the water's edge 
I filled my ships. And now in your fair hand 

It is my lofty meed and privilege 
To place that wondrous treasure — that best thing." 

He ceased. With skilful fingers quick was loosed 
The mouth of one full sack from out the heap 



34 Folly's Bells 

Laid at the lady's feet, 
And thence brought forth, from its ungainly keep, 
A handful of ripe wheat. 

XXII 

It was an awful moment. None dared speak. 

Each might then have heard his neighbor's heart beat 

In the silence deep 
That filled the place while Heinric reverently 
Essayed to drop the shining golden grain 
Into the lady's ready, outstretched palm. 

But with a sudden scorn 
Her trembling hand she hastily withdrew. 

And every glittering corn 
Full on the pavement fell — most sharply fell — 
Striking the marble in the ominous calm 
With the dull, muffled cadence of a knell. 

As with the turn of tide 
The storm increases, so her accents grew 
More and more vehement as her speech found vent 
In words her courtiers round grew pale to hear — 
Filling the vulgar crowd with horrent fear. 



:ll 




Folly's Bells 2>1 

XXIII 

"Thus, minion, thus," she cried, 
'* Do I cast wide 
You and your paltry freight, 
With my supremest hate. 
This — this you deem, 
Base miscreant ! the perfectest, the best, 
Of all the wealth the wide world can bestow ! 

Insolence supreme. 
To plan such failure for my highest hope ! 
That from my splendid scheme would dare to wrest 

Your own conceit so low, 
And with my sovereignty essay to cope ! 

'' Presumptuous fool, take quickly hence 
Yourself, your crew, and their preposterous load! 
And, ere the tide has seven times ebbed and flowed, 

Cast seaward from your ships 
Their hateful cargo. If a single grain 

From careless fingers slips 
Into a beggar's hand, swift doom — condign — 

The bitterest pain — 



38 Folly' s Bells 

Each man shall follow. Strict obedience 
Be yours. — Go! — And from sight most straightly 

place 
Of this your luckless errand every trace." 

XXIV 

At these last words Korthar raised high his pike, 
And prudently waved back the populace, 
That gazed with gaping mouths upon the group 
Of gallant sailors, crushed so cruelly. 
Sadly assuming their despised load. 
A look of keenest anguish had displaced 
The mild benignity that graced so well 
The furrowed face of Heinric Schleyversen. 
Deeper and darker were the lines now drawn 
About his noble features. Gray as death 
The shades contending with the fiery flush 
Of injured honor on his lofty brow. 
As, tottering feebly, scarcely could he pay 
The low obeisance, which, imperiously, 
Richberta claimed of all to whom she spake ; 
While many a gibe and fleer fell on his ear. 



Folly s Bells 39 

And now, again, in jangling dissonance, 
The bells with wildest, fiercest tumult fling 
Richberta's wrath upon the echoing air 
As from her presence slowly he goes forth. 

XXV 

Wrapped in a purple pall the sun went down. 
The eve-star hid her rays. The hurrying scud, 
With wide wings fluttering, hovering, rushing in. 
Seemed vast battalions of a ghostly host 
Presaging woe. And when the new moon hung 
For a brief space above the city's walls. 
She held the old moon in her slender arms, — 
Omen most dire ! — at which the fishers' wives 
Tended in tears the taper at the pane, 
Hushing the children's glee, to hear the steps 
Of loved ones hastening home ere bursts the storm. 
The white-lipped waves that fiercely lapped the shore 
Glowed crimson soon from glare of lamps alight 
Through all the harbored fleet. But wildest scream 
Of startled sea gulls seeking safe retreat. 
And roar of rampant breakers at the dykes. 



4.0 Folly' s Bells 

Were lost amid the outcries of the crews, — 
In their dismay, with frantic turbulence 
Working like demons at their desperate task, 
Sack upon sack and tierce on tierce, well stored, 
From faultless order wresting, with coarse shouts 
And oaths, that with the creaking windlass made 
Terrific discord. 

At the midnight hour 
Out of the bosom of a sable cloud 
The north wind burst, with sudden vengeance sped 
Throughout the city, raved around the dykes. 
Across the dunes, and harried all the port. 
The toiling sailors heard it — felt its power 
Whistling defiant madness 'mong the shrouds, — 
Mast and spar tearing to splinters, crash on crash. 
And blow succeeding blow — a hurricane 
Indeed,— and yet all stolidly wrought on — 
Though, strained in every part, the stout ships reeled - 
With deafening uproar striving to outdo 
The furious storm. 



Folly's Bells 41 \ 



XXVI 

Vainly the admiral 
Issued peremptory orders, bidding cease 
Their reckless toil. H,e knew the jetsam vast — 
So many and so many heavy sacks 
And tierces numberless — had heaped the shoals, 
And rapidly a bar, immense and strong, 
Was rearing at the port. E'en now the tide, 
Obstructed thus, raging and roaring sent 
A thrill of sharp alarm, chill as stern death. 
Through every nerve and vein — a prophecy 
Of swift-impending doom. Such climax near, 
More willing he Richberta's ire to dare 
Than nature's occult issues to defy. 
But all too late his orders. This alone 
Knew they (the reckless crew), or cared to know — 
To hide as swiftly as they might beneath 
The furious waves their hated freight. And thus 
The livelong night they toiled. When morning broke. 

Rest — a brief space, they took 

Now, whence and what 
The awful change that in the glimmering light 



42 Folly' s Bells 

Meets their swift gaze? 

A flood — a raging flood 

Spreads far and wide 

Heinric Schleyversen treads, 
From stem to stern, impatiently, the deck 
Of his uneasy vessel, uttering low 
A groan of deepest anguish, while from all 
The w^atching fleet a cry uprises shrill — 
" The dykes ! the dykes are broken ! ". . . . 

Blank despair, 
Or rigid horror, sits on every face 
x\t the wild, widespread ruin 

XXVII 

Springtime rains 
And melting snows had swelled the river's tide. 
Flevum, full bosomed, aided by the wind. 
Had burst triumphantly the barriers strong 
That in the ancient days the fathers built 
At an uncounted cost of time and toil — 
And life (more dear than all), and whose renown 
The nation's glory reared, for they had held 
In their control the sources of her w^ealth. 



Folly' s Bells 43 

Of this destruction sure, the raging wind, 

Its wrath not yet appeased, veered swiftly south, — 

The shelving sands along the seashore sent 

In rapid eddies, buffeting the waves ; 

And, mingling there in strange companionship 

With wasted cargo of Richberta's fleet — 

By rolling surges held and made secure — 

Piled rapidly a dune so sharp and sheer 

Most vehement current of the inner tide 

Might nevermore descend. 

Yet high and broad 
Came on the river, with terrific force, 
In its exultant freedom field and fell 
Clear sweeping. And yet on and on it came. 
Its rapid waters ravening as they come 
Like hungry wolves, around the city's walls 
Gnashing their white teeth, till each bulwark fell; 
Then, indiscriminate, of hut or hall 
Grasping a variant prey, and on its breast 
Bearing triumphantly to meet the sea. 
Higher and higher the tumultuous waves. 
The dune upbuilding, Flevum's trover took, 
And with a thunderous roar his progress stayed. 



44 Folly's Bells 

And so the baffled current sullenly 
Spread east and west — a restless bay became. 
And when the day had fully dawned, behold, 
The fleet lay anchored in a wide expanse 
Of tossing waters ! 

XXVIII 

Gone were buoy and quay, 
All alien vessels, and all kindred craft. 
The great storehouses crammed with costly goods. 
The mighty derricks, and the fishing gear. 
With every fisher's hut, and all the homes 
Of thrifty merchants — gone, or hidden deep 
Beneath the waves. Save the one topmost tower 
Of proud Richberta's palace, nought was seen 
Of stately Stavoren. 

The sailors gazed 
Aghast. Where were the gladsome crowds that trod 
But yesterday its busy streets ? the groups 
Of gossips at the cottage doors? and where 
The merry children singing songs of spring? 
The haughty dame, the flatterers of her court. 
And her imperial grandeur? 



Folly's Bells 45 

Each for each 
Answered 111 silent language, eye to eye, 
Questions unutterable, as still they gazed 
In awed amazement and in fearful hope 
Some trace, though slight, of sentient life to see 
Amid this dreary waste ; when, lo, appears 
A white hand beckoning from the turret top ! 
And whose all knew, and that but yester morn 
At this same hour it beckoned last. 

Enough ! 
To crippled mast, or from a broken spar, 
A score of men in haste their banners raise, 
Tattered and stained with salt sea-spray. 

Anon 
A white veil flutters from a window bar, 
And there the fragile tissue hangs till winds 
And waves tear it to shreds. 

Ay ! day and night 
It hung, in mute appeal, as tide on tide 
Still higher swelled. Was that the truce she fain 
Would grant the storm -tossed, weary sailors there? 
Or sign of keen remorse ? or piteous plea 
For pardon of her tyranny ? 



46 ^ Folly's Bells 

God knows, 
And He alone; and how, as days went on, 
And hunger, pain, and cold the measure filled 
Of her imprisonment, she wept and prayed, 
Longing for some release. In her despair, 
The one best thing — so scornfully refused — 
Seeming, indeed, most priceless gift of earth. 
Begged she not humbly, famishing and faint. 
That the wild waters bring to her once more, 
From the fleet's wasted store of precious wheat. 
That handful once despised ? 

XXIX 

Seven fearful days 
Of onset and recoil. Continuously 
The billows surge and leap, their silvery locks 
Dashing disheveled 'gainst the trembling tower. 
Then came a calm — an ominous, awful cahii — 
As if the winds and waves, aweary, paused 
To gather strength anew; and in the dark 
And solemn midnight watch the sailors heard — 
Or fancied so — through the great stillness round, 



Folly' s Bells 47 

The De Profundis chanted plaintively, 

As it had been an angel's voice upraised 

From lowest depths of woe. But, ere it ceased, 

Again the storm-wind, its black wings of hail 

And biting sleet shook sharp and shrill above 

The sleeping waters, and the floods arose. 

Raging and booming with terrific force. 

And that low voice was hushed — forever hushed ; 

While suddenly, all strident with distress, 

In gravest bass, antiphonal, the crews 

Uplift a Miserere, for their ships 

No longer own their sway. 

A plunge — a crash — 
A deafening crash, and every keel save one 
Asunder parts, and with its gallant crew 
Into the ruthless jaws of death soon sinks. 
The angered waves thundering defiance fierce. 

XXX 

And when the gale was spent, the sea at peace, 
Heinric Schleyversen in that one ship spared — 
Despoiled of sails and spars, a battered hulk — 



48 Folly's Bells 

Beholding the great sohtude around — 

Not e'en the sheerest pinnacle above the tide — 

Called up the remnant of his faithful men ; 

With brows uncovered in the golden morn, 

From humbled hearts, together poured they forth 

Praise and petition to the Power divine 

Who holds the sea within His mighty hand. 

XXXI 

The sun in all his royalty arose, 
A smile to nature reconciled cast free — 
Blue sky above and laughing waves beneath, 
As never storm or sorrow here had birth. 
And floating, uncontrolled, before the breeze. 
Went the old hulk with Heinric and his crew — 
Like Noah in the ark of early time — 
Far up and on beyond the city's bounds, 
Beyond where Flevum's dykes were once upreared. 
Until a haven safe and sure they found. 
All perils past, a city there they built 
Wherein dwelt peace and plenty evermore. 



Folly's Bells 51 

XXXII 

The years, a never-ending flood, roll on. 
Long centuries have fled : and still the tide 
Of Flevum's rapid stream flows to the bay, — 
The proud blue Zuyder Zee— where yet repose 
Beneath the changeful waves the palaces 
Of Lady Richberta and all their pomp, 
And all the wealth of ancient Stavoren. 
Along the shore are many humble homes ; 
Here industry and sweet content abide. 
And when the wintry snows are drifting high. 
And safe in harbor all the fishers' boats — 
For furious gales are wrestling with the waves 
O'er dune and sandspit — aged crones repeat 
(The while their nimble fingers fashion well 
Warm hose and garments for the youngster's wear) 
To happy children, eager-eyed and keen 
For tales of wonder and of perils past. 
This legend of Richberta and her doom. 

But when the full-fed urchins, waxing proud. 
Coax with cajoling smiles for daintier food. 
They tell the story of the babes who died 



52 Folly's Bells 

In want of e'en a crust, till tears fall fast; 
And then, with humble thanks, their daily bread — 
The wholesome, healthful loaf of ripened wheat — 
Though coarse it be, these wondering little ones 
Are glad to take, and with their grandame lift 
Their songs of grateful praise to Him who sends 
That priceless gift — the world's best thing. 

And never Christmas feasting passes by. 
If greedy, grasping hands essay to claim 
Too large a share of dainties or of toys, 
Without a lesson pointed sharp and clear 
By brief recall of proud Richberta's sin. 



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